Rock and Water
by DayStorm
Summary: Only weeks from becoming a full Dragon Slayer, Rhode finds that she does not possess the same hatred and driving desire to eradicate the dragons as do the others of her order. Not yet . . . this is how she came to be the Slayer who could hate a friend who would one day turn Dragon Knight.
1. Chapter 1 - Decisions

_***It goes without saying that Divinity II: Eco Draconis – the story, game locations and all related characters belong to dtp entertainment and Larian Studios. I claim no ownership or association to the game titled Divinity II: Eco Draconis. This was written by a fan of the game and solely for the enjoyment of other gamers.**_

**Chapter 1**

**DECISION**

A solitary red deer grazed in the glen, swaying through the deep tangle of heather which covered the hillside. The stag's coat glinted russet and gold in the dying sunlight slanting through the valley and on its head a pair of ragged antlers reared into the sky. The stag was a royal with twelve pikes, or tines, on its proud head and its antlers marked it instantly as an animal of power and distinction.

The stag's fur was thick but this could not hide a series of cuts and wounds on its sides and haunches; the marks of innumerable battles, and a livid scar that ran from the bottom of its neck clear to the base of its spine.

Red deer were plentiful in the nameless lowland valley between the towering monoliths of ice-crowned mountains. A wide basin dusted with soft mists and sparkling water. Of hardy trees and great sweeps of purple heather. But such a magnificent animal as this was uncommon.

Suddenly the stag flinched and swung its head towards the beech wood on the western slope. Its ears pressed forward, muscles tensed and its nostrils flaring, sending out wreaths of vapor that hung in the air. The stag's dark eyes pierced the thickening twilight, casting restlessly along the shadows of the trees. But the scent it had caught on the breeze was lost and the deer's head returned to its mossy pasture, nosing through the undergrowth. Rooting out the juiciest of the summer stems.

All around the silence was deepening with the evening. The stillness broken only by the distant cry of a goshawk, the lonely croon of a night owl or the creaking flurry of a pheasant as it broke cover and exploded into the evening air.

And the sharp-eyed human girl who made no noise at all, standing motionless within the trees. Her eyes were the color of the woodland heather. A soft gray brown that could so easily have enchanted the boys at the Academy but that Rhode had no use for. She was a hunter. A stalker of deer and, someday, a slayer of dragons. That luxurious natural color would soon become the eerie, shining silver of her chosen vocation.

Not long now . . . but she did not linger on those thoughts. She did not dare for the red deer had again lifted its large head and was watched the trees where Rhode waited – patient as a mountain cat – for the animal to come within range of her arrows. The stag scented the air, huffing bright plumes of steam into the purple twilight. A stiff wind blew down from the mountains, icy cold and cutting straight through the heavy wool of Rhode's tunic.

Her hand tightened on the smooth, white wood of her short bow. A weapon she used specifically for hunting deer, as the weapon's master would have flogged her for daring to use one of the quality composite bows from the barracks. Their aim was surer but those were used solely for training or defense of the school.

It was so, so easy to visualize what would happen. One arrow. A quick shot. Clean, straight through the broad, muscled chest of the stag and it would be done. The animal would fall. Powerful legs crumpling beneath its weight.

A pity for such a beautiful, proud beast to be felled this way.

A perfect shot. The stag had wandered nearer to the trees and was now well within range of fire. Its head was lifted high, exposing the heart. Catching the bowstring with her fingers, Rhode drew back on the arrow and sighted along the length of the shaft.

Her heart beat steadily in her chest, and she could feel each pulse echoing in her fingertips. She hesitated. Instinct tickled, pricking irritatingly at the base of Rhode's skull. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck tingled a warning seconds before the last beam on sunlight fell behind the mountains and the valley was plunged in blue darkness. Stars winked cool as winter frost from a sky that had not yet turned fully black and there was something up there.

The stag tilted its great head towards the sky, sensing the same presence that had so unsettled the young almost-Slayer. Together, they scanned the ethers for what they could not see. Rhode was aware only of something moving but her eyes could not find what was there. There was no shape that caused the stars to wink out as it passed in front of them. The moon, a bright sickle of white peeking out from behind a swath of colorless cloud seemed so distant on a night as still as this.

Fear tightened in Rhode's belly, causing her fingers to tremble but only slightly. She was a Slayer initiate. She had trained to master her fears but whatever invisible menace circled above was frightening in a way she had never experienced. She had no idea of what it might have been.

The trees swayed as a powerful wind whipped their canopies. Branches shivered, clacking noisily against each other and Rhode did what she had been taught to do. She ducked lower to the ground, keeping still so as to not alert whatever threat might otherwise spot a shape fleeing through the trees. Human instinct or perhaps a child's long-suppressed instinct made it so that Rhode longed desperately to close her eyes and be blind to whatever beast was descending but Slayer training mastered that impulse to blind herself and she kept her gaze fixed on the clearing.

The stag reared its head high, stabbing at the sky with those magnificent twelve-point antlers but it was not battling. The animal spun to run away from whatever was coming but rather than head for the trees the deer sprinted further into the open and that proved to be a fatal decision as darkness dropped from the sky and struck the stag with the fierce precision of a hawk on a field mouse.

The deer dropped dead instantly, its body broken from the force with which it had been struck.

Rhode flattened against the ground, too frightened to even feel the sharp stones cutting into the palms of her hands. The creature from the sky was a dragon.

The first she had ever seen for herself.

More frightening than even the most exaggerated paintings in the Academy halls could possibly have depicted, the creature was immense with eyes that blazed a glorious red. Demonically bright as if lit from within in the darkness. Its scales were as black as jet and moved effortlessly with the creature's every gesture, despite Rhode's understanding that each scale was as hard as diamond.

A sharp, eerily elegant head was attached to a long neck that arched like that of a swan. Ivory spines, horns, jutted from the dragon's narrow maw. Teeth that could disembowel even another dragon made short work of the deer carcass pinned to the ground. The dragon tore open the body and began to eat ravenously on the inner organs.

The creature appeared to be starving, desperate to fill its stomach with sustenance and Rhode felt a moment of pity for the beautiful monster. How far had it flown, and from where, that it had not been able to feed itself?

She tightened her fist, comforted by the familiarity of the bow in her hand. The arrow that had been intended for the deer would be of better use on a dragon. The iron arrowhead could not even scratch on of the glossy black scales but Rhode was fully aware that a single clean shot through a glowing red eye would fell the beast as surely as a zeppelin cannon.

Levering herself slowly, careful to make no noise lest the beast become suddenly aware of her, Rhode knelt in the dirt and put arrow to bowstring. Sighted with much practice along the arrow shaft and fixed her attention on that eye. A difficult shot, certainly, but not impossible.

The dragon tore the liver from the deer in one smooth motion and tossed back its head, like a bird swallowing a fish. It was purring, almost. That deep drumming noise dragons made to show pleasure. Blood dribbled from between its teeth. The dragon lowered its head again and tore at the carcass. The sound of bone cracking echoed through the valley.

Lowing her bow, Rhode withdrew into the forest to leave the dragon to finish its meal in peace.


	2. Chapter 2 - Briar Crossing

_***It goes without saying that Divinity II: Eco Draconis – the story, game locations and all related characters belong to dtp entertainment and Larian Studios. I claim no ownership or association to the game titled Divinity II: Eco Draconis. This was written by a fan of the game and solely for the enjoyment of other gamers.**_

**Chapter 2**

**BRIAR CROSSING**

Night had fully descended over the world and Rhode had nothing to show for the day spent away save for the memory of a dragon as lethally beautiful as secret seduction. She did not regret having let the creature live, though she did feel some sense of having betrayed her as-yet unspoken oaths. What would the other initiates think, should they ever discover her failure?

Rhode slowed her pace as she came to the road that would take her directly into the town of Briar Crossing. The last human settlement this side of the mountains, bordered on three sides by vast fields of wheat that would sway soft green during the summer and turned blazing gold as the harvest season approached. No one had honestly believed that a town would flourish so near to the deeper wilderness and truthfully, it would have long since fallen to the predatory beasts and parties of roaming brigands had the Slayer Academy not been perched strategically on the hill overlooking the town.

Rhode moved easily along the narrow path that snaked through the forest, following the winding ribbon of a river that would eventually drain out into the sea. But she had no intention of going quite that far. The scent of hearth fires, of charred wood and of roasting meat turning on the tavern spit beckoned to her. _**Come home. Sit. Warm yourself in the company of your fellows. **_She was not the only Academy Initiate to frequent the town, or the warmth and merriment of the tavern.

And though she had brought herself a ration of soft cheese and salted venison for the day, her belly ached for stew. Or a hearty pot pie still steaming from the ovens or a heavy mug of sweet wild berry wine that was kept in oak barrels in the tavern cellar.

Cresting the steepest of the hills on the trail, Rhode turned down the road that would take her into town so that the great stone walls of the Slayer Academy loomed menacingly at her back. Even had she not been so eager for an evening away, she would not have wanted to immediately return to the school. How would she face her peers, her instructors, knowing that she would say nothing to anyone of the dragon sighted in the valley so near to the Academy? Her pity for the beast would make her a liar . . .

Still thinking of the monster, with scales as black as void and eyes that gleamed radiantly red, she wondered if perhaps she should have taken the shot. It had been unaware of her presence and to kill a dragon while still only an initiate would have won her the admiration of the Slayers. Of everyone.

Lights from the town shone brighter than the stars but seemed to grow slighter less radiant the nearer Rhode came to them. The familiar smells grew more acute, so that she felt she could taste each individual scent on her tongue. The same way she could discern the separate flavors of honey, spices and wine in a rich mead.

The stables were the first human-built structure she came to. A landmark to assure herself that she was finally within the town of Briar Crossing. The mares had all been brought in for the evening, though the stable's only stallion was left out to pasture. He would have done poorly in a stall surrounded by fertile mares.

Further along the dirt road she came to the first of the houses. From the outside, they seemed so still but Rhode was aware of the lives being lived behind those shuttered windows. The families settling for dinner while children reluctantly scrubbed their hands and faces at washbasins.

Beyond that was the small market where vegetables and sweet cakes were displayed in narrow wooden stalls. All closed and packed away for the evening. The smithy; also shut at this hour though sweltering heat still emanated from inside the ventilated stone square in waves of sharp, steel-scented air.

And then, just east of the smith was White Briar Tavern. A single-story, wood and stone establishment and the only building that had glass in the windows. A costly luxury but one that was well worth the price as they helped keep in the heat and light. Rhode strode through the front entrance, marveling as she often did at the intricately carved wooden door. A wave of welcoming warmth and boisterous conversation greeted her and she lingered just inside for a moment, overwhelmed by a sense of belonging that she did not even feel at the Academy amongst her own kind.

"Rhode!" cried Cherry, the young barmaid. "Seat yourself where you can. We're full tonight!"

So they were. With less than a week until the Slayer initiation, the graduating class flocked to the town for impromptu celebrations. Rhode recognized nearly every face in the common room as one of her own. The hearth in the centre of the room was lit with a roaring fire. Flames danced nearly to the ceiling and the only thing that could accomplish such a feat without igniting the building and killing everyone inside was magic.

Slayer magic was potent and Rhode could feel the power sliding like static over her skin. It reached straight through her clothing as if she wore nothing at all and it was a heady, intoxicating sensation. Magic. Power. The mere idea that she, too, was capable of performing such feats never ceased to astonish her.

"No deer tonight?" called Marius from a corner table. He shouted to be heard over the crush of voices pressing in from all sides and even then, Rhode had scarcely heard him. But she did, and moved eagerly to the table that had been claimed by Marius and a gaggle of friends.

Mugs of mulberry wine were passed around and she gratefully accepted what was handed to her. The wine was warmed, and the heat felt wonderful as she held the mug and let the warmth soak into her hands. She sipped the drink and felt it heating her from the inside.

"What happened?" Marius demanded, swishing his own drink around so that a little splashed out onto the table. "When has the great and powerful Rhode, Huntress of the Valley Deer ever returned with nothing to show for herself?"

Unwilling to allow herself to be provoked, even good-naturedly by a close friend, Rhode took a moment to collect her thoughts. She took another drink and then deliberately put down the mug. Said, "And what have you accomplished this day? Is that grain in your hair?"

Laughter erupted from the others at the table. Marius was renowned for his love of the ladies and milkmaids had been known to travel up to the Academy gates in search of him. They were always turned away, of course, but it was no secret that _**he**_ came into town whenever he could get away with it.

Marius laughed as loud as anyone at the implication, in no way embarrassed at the thought of what his friends might have been imagining. He tossed back the last of his drink and then slammed the mug down on the table with force enough to dent the wood.

"Did you hear?" said Jass, another of the Initiates who was soon to become a full-Slayer. "The Academy sent Slayers out to the fjords this morn."

"What for?" Rhode demanded. She felt a small prickle of concern at the loss of defense for the Academy. With a dragon in the valley . . . should she have taken the shot and slain the beast?

"What for?" Jass echoed. "Are you daft? The wyverns are nesting in greater numbers, and they drove a zeppelin into a cliff not two days past."

"Ah, your head's in the trees," Marcus said. "With graduation so close, you would think you'd feel the need to focus your thoughts on what matters."

"We are to become Slayers of Dragon," Rhode said. "Not the Bane of Wyvern. Head in the trees? Better than having my head up a skirt."

Marcus kicked at the legs of Rhode's chair, knocking her back several inches from the table. She just laughed but secretly, Rhode wondered at what it would mean should the dragon come up from the valley. How many Slayers had been sent away to the fjords . . .?


	3. Chapter 3 - Empty Academy

_***It goes without saying that Divinity II: Eco Draconis – the story, game locations and all related characters belong to dtp entertainment and Larian Studios. I claim no ownership or association to the game titled Divinity II: Eco Draconis. This was written by a fan of the game and solely for the enjoyment of other gamers.**_

**Chapter 3**

**EMPTY ACADEMY**

The loss of six Slayers should not have made any difference in a school filled with people but it did. There was a hollowness within the dim, night-lit halls that wasn't there before. A strange coolness in rooms, as if the sudden absence of six warm bodies were enough to be felt by those who remained.

Rhode returned to the Academy and fell into bed before the morning bell while it was still dark, though a line of silver was beginning to stain the eastern horizon. The first light. Her head ached, from too much good wine and too little food. She suffered for it, but could not bring herself to regret the evening. There was nothing quite like time spent in the company of friends, tavern music and the scent of a roaring fire to warm oneself.

Still, the absence of those Slayers gnawed at her. She could see the dragon in her mind as clearly as when it stood before her and the image was accompanied by a particular terror. One she hadn't felt while alone in the forest with the beast but that she was acutely aware of now.

Rhode lay on top of her sheets, too tired to even remove her boots and snuggled her face into her pillow. Through the tiny window cut into the wall, there came a slight breeze she would not have been able to feel from the ground. There was smoke on that breeze. Noises were coming from the courtyard. The whistle and thump of arrows striking a wooden target. The high thrill of morning birds waking with their first tentative songs . . .

She would have to wake, soon. Slayers did not sleep through the day and though Rhode was not yet one of those esteemed dragon hunters . . . she would be soon. Very, very soon. She had no interest in disappointing her Order now that she was almost there. So close to becoming what she had worked so hard for.

The scent of smoke wafted on the breeze, gradually growing sharper. The acrid stench stung the lungs. Rhode rolled onto her back, struggling to open her eyes past the exhaustion numbing her mind and body. The heaviness swept through her small cell-like room so thickly that it seemed to Rhode as if the blurring was not caused by her tired eyes trying to focus, but rather from the smoke itself.

She sat straight up in bed, suddenly very awake.

Dragon.

That immense black beast she had so foolishly chosen to leave alive in the valley. The village would not have been difficult to find from the sky.

Rhode leapt from her bed, boots scraping on the cool stone floor and rushed to the window to see. Was there fire? Were Briar Crossing's precious fields burning? Wheat and corn and the orchard further out where grew the hearty yellow apples unique to these mountains . . .

No. She strained her eyes but could find no evidence of the destruction dragons were notorious for. The scent of smoke remained strong, but the haze being tugged on the early morning breezes was from hearth fires and the pale mist coming up off the lake. Rhode breathed deeply and looked out at the dense green forests beyond the fields.

There was no fire there, either. No billowing clouds of dense black smoke and she let herself feel the relief fluttering in her chest. Rhode adored the village and the Academy equally. These places were home to her. But the forests were _**hers**_. Her domain where she felt contented. Safe. Even protected as she understood the world within those trees in a way she would never feel anywhere else.

She turned to return to her bed but paused as she caught sight of the lone figure standing in the wide courtyard. It took only a moment to recognize the figure as one of the younger initiates. In his hands was a longbow made of fine red wood, glistening in the light from the rising sun so that she could see it even from her window. He was standing a fair distance from the row of painted targets set against the heavy stone of the Academy's inner wall.

But that is not what had drawn Rhode's attention. Each arrow he let fly had landed perfectly on the mark. That small black dot at the centre of the wood panels used to practice the archery skill. The child had remarkable aim, especially when taking into consideration that the bow he held was nearly as tall as he was. Far too large a weapon for his size. It must have been unwieldy but he held it with the ease of a natural-born archer. And a master marksman.

He was clearly an asset to the Academy, and if he continued to improve he would be a fine Slayer some day. Though she doubted very much that this child with his exceptional accuracy would make much of a difference against the dragon Rhode had spotted in the valley. She shivered, denying that those chills might be foreboding and returned to her bed.

Kicked off her boots, letting them thump to the floor and snuggled up under the thin, familiar sheets. Sank quickly into sleep with the lingering scent of smoke tickling the back of her throat and a memory of black dragons with smoldering red eyes dancing in her head.


	4. Chapter 4 - Story in the Meal Hall

_***It goes without saying that Divinity II: Eco Draconis – the story, game locations and all related characters belong to dtp entertainment and Larian Studios. I claim no ownership or association to the game titled Divinity II: Eco Draconis. This was written by a fan of the game and solely for the enjoyment of other gamers.**_

**Chapter 4**

**STORY IN THE MEAL HALL**

Rhode was not permitted to leave the Academy.

She woke late in the day with a sore head and a dry throat. She had had no intention of going into town. Certainly no intention of returning to the lowland valley in search of deer. But she would have liked to spend a little while outside the bustle of the Slayer Academy if for no other reason than to enjoy this day with no scheduled lessons.

Only, it was announced that Initiates were forbidden from leaving the school.

Early that morning, as Rhode slept off the worst of the wine-induced headache and her friends trickled slowly back up the trail to the Academy castle . . . the first of the summer traders had arrived, leading heavy ox-drawn wagons of various wares and the large cedar casks of hard brown ale brought up from the Aleroth breweries themselves. Those were to be sold exclusively to the Briar Crossing Tavern master. Never to the Academy kitchens though many Initiates (and Slayers) tried futilely to convince the Kitchen Matron that a single cask would be worth the expense.

The arrival of the traders signified the start of the summer trading and that more goods would begin to trickle up from the cities to the south. It was a time of celebration as the small village received an influx of much-needed materials.

Unfortunately for all those Initiates who had so looked forward to attending the party in the village as the tradesman set up their booths, those same traders had arrived with the startling news that a dragon had been sighted in the mountains.

News that did not surprise Rhode in the least.

She was sitting in the Academy's common hall for the midday meal with her fellow initiates when a snippet of conversation at another table caught her attention.

"Red, they say. As red as hellfire!"

Rhode's head came up and she let her spoon drop to the bowl of goat stew only partially eaten. She turned on the bench, to check who had spoken. Marius, freshly bathed and sporting a slight wince in his eyes that spoke of a hard hangover after the tavern-party the night before waved his own spoon in the air to punctuate what was being said.

"It's scales were the color of blood! As deep and dark as a cut throat!"

A younger Initiate, really only past her girlhood, tossed back her long tail of dark hair and said, "But you just said it was the color of hellfire!"

"It was red," her friend, seated right beside her, said. "What does it matter exactly what color the beast was?"

"Hellfire is bright," the girl argued. "Blood is dark. So, which is it?"

"Blood," Marius said. "The dragon was the color of blood, as if it had only just fed and the blood of its prey stained its body."

"Of course it was," someone else jeered. "Where did you hear this?"

"The caravan master himself told me," Marius shot back, glaring at the older boy who had spoken. "In his own words, the creature was red as blood with wings that spread so wide they shut out the sun and turned the day into night!"

Rhode snorted and turned back to her lunch.

The older boy must have been of a similar opinion. He laughed outright and challenged Marius's account. "And when, exactly, did you speak with the caravan master? When did he tell you this? No Initiate was even _**in**_ the village when the caravan arrived. Bah. You're telling tales."

"I am not!" Marius shouted, outraged at the implication he was lying. "There is a dragon in the mountains!"

"Of course there is," said the younger girl who was the first to question him. "That's why the Slayers are all up-in-arms and why _**we**_ are being held within the walls. No one doubts _**that**_."

Marius was fairly bristling with indignation. Rhode didn't need to be looking at him to know it.

"Rhode!" Marius called out, his voice echoing off the high walls of the meal hall. Voices, whole conversations at other tables from people who had not even been listening to Marius's stories stopped to look. Some were curious. Others annoyed. Most only glanced over, going immediately back to their own business.

Rhode sighed and reluctantly turned to face Marius. The boy was standing, now. Arms spread apart in a gesture of supplication. As if begging her for assistance.

"You've spent time in the mountain valley," he said. "Have you ever seen a dragon?"

Rhode's heart sank at the question. Marius was her friend. He was a good friend, at that. But the thought of confessing to a room filled with Slayer Initiates that she had spotted a dragon while hunting, that she _**could**_ have felled the beast but chose to let it live out of some misguided sense of pity for such a magnificent animal . . . she couldn't. Not now. Most especially not since she had chosen not to even report the sighting.

As an Initiate, failing to kill a dragon when confronted with one could be forgiven. She would not have been shamed, though her peers would doubtless have laughed at the story. But what punishment would there be for staying quiet about what she had seen lurking so close to the village? If anyone was killed . . . if the village was burned to ash and it's citizenry eaten . . . this would be her fault. No one would be more to blame than Rhode herself.

Oh, why hadn't she said anything?

Duty would have demanded she return to the Academy and report to a Slayer. To the Academy Master himself, if need be. Instead, she chose to spend her evening drinking and eating at the village tavern with her friends.

Everyone was now looking at her, waiting for Rhode to respond to Marius's plea. She said, "If I had seen something as memorable as a dragon, you would think I would have told someone!"

Yes, you would think . . .

Marius expression twisted with annoyance as the other Initiates laughed at him. He slumped down on the bench.

Anxiety churned in Rhode's stomach. Unable to eat even another bite of the hearty goat stew she pushed back from her table and stood. Walked lightly over to where Marius was sullenly finishing his own lunch and sat down beside him.

"The dragon was red, you say?"

She whispered the question, crossing her arms on the table and leaning close to her friend so that he would hear her without needing to raise her voice. The buzz and occasional bout of laughter had resumed and the noise in the large meal hall was loud.

"What does it matter?" he sulked.

"It matters," she responded. "Did you truly speak with the caravan master?"

Marius sighed and let his spoon fall into the bowl with a metallic _**klink**_.

"I spoke to Barnabas," he admitted. "And he's the one who spoke to the traders in the village."

Barnabas. An eccentric but particularly powerful sorcerer given no one expected him to ever graduate. Some speculated that he'd come to the Slayer Academy for the sole purpose of learning magic from the Slayers, not to become a Slayer himself.

"How can Barnabas know anything?" Rhode demanded. "He is no more permitted to leave the Academy than the rest of us."

Marius said, "Permitted? No. He snuck out this morn, and returned only just before the midday bell. He told me what he heard the tradesman discussing."

"He says they saw a red dragon in the mountains?" Rhode asked.

"Yes."

"Marius, this is important. Was it a _**red**_ dragon?"

"By the Divines, Rhode. Yes. A red dragon circling the mountain peaks. What of it?"

Red. A red dragon in the mountains . . .

Rhode closed her eyes and tried to remember the exact color of the dragon she'd seen in the lowland valley. The one who had slaughtered and eaten the twelve-point stag she had been tracking. It had been dark, with the stars winking like chips of broken ice so far over the world and only the horizon showing what remained of the day's last light.

She was sure she remembered the dragon in the valley as having black scales. Scales that flashed and shone, so dark they seemed to simultaneously absorb the starlight and refract it. But was it possible that the darkness of the night had fooled her sight? Could the dragon she had seen have actually been a deep, rich red . . . the color of blood, as Marius (and Barnabas) claimed?

Or were there actually two dragons?

The majestic black she had been unable to slay . . . and the mysterious red still up in the mountains?


End file.
